


JayTim Bingo- Mythology

by Starless_Void



Series: JayTim Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Damian is a brat, Dick is a Good Brother, JayTim Bingo, JayTimBINGO2019, Jaytim - Freeform, M/M, Magic, dragon!Jason, posting without a beta reader to get that sweet sweet validation, this took me a month to write, warlock!Tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-28 05:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20420615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starless_Void/pseuds/Starless_Void
Summary: So this is literally a month late, but here is my entry for the JayTim Bingo prompt- mythology. I got super carried away, this was supposed to be no more than five pages long but I went four times past that and am only partly done!Tim is the adopted son of King Bruce of Gotham, and is given an important quest from Prince Damian to track down a monster and... save it?





	1. Chapter 1

“General Timothy!” A courier calls out, finding the man in his tent, surrounded by two of his three captains, Bart and Cassie, studying the map laid out before him by candlelight. “You need to see this!” The man is out of breath and looks to be scared half to death, lantern shaking in his hand.

“Show me.” Tim commands, rising from his seat and following after the man, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. This trip has been harsh, nearly a whole cycle of the seasons had passed since any of his company had been home, leading to a steady drop in morale. Many fights have broken out in the last moon, tensions running high. Tim is glad to be making his way back to Gotham, his men need the break.

Cassie shares a look with Bart before they too, exit the tent and fall into step beside Tim, following after the messenger, who seems to be well equipped to the job, the trio breaks into a light jog to keep up with his quick pace.

He is led through the camp, passing tent after empty tent, only a couple of men huddled by each campfire. It must have been some fight for everyone to gather like this. At the edge of the line of tents is a semicircle of men, clustered around a figure on the ground. 

“General Timothy, sir!” A man calls out from the edge of the crowd. The other men fall silent and begin to part for him, faces grim. Bracing himself for the worst, Tim strides forward and inspects the scene before him. 

The mangled corpses of what looks to be five of his men are laid out in the grass. If Timothy had not been at war for so long, mayhap he would have a more severe reaction, but in these times, such bloodshed was commonplace. 

“Gods,” Cassie curses from behind him, as Bart sucks in a short breath of shock. Tim raises a hand to them, and they take a step back, giving him space.

“They were found like this, sir.” A man reports, voice shaking slightly. “There were no screams, but the blood sprayed onto some of the tents, waking us up. We lit our lanterns and found them like-” The poor man couldn’t even finish his sentence. Tim waves his hand, dismissing the soldier. “That is all I need to know. Gather in the center of the camp and split the men into three parties. Two if they feel better that way. We will be on our highest guard tonight, and begin preparations to return to Gotham on the marrow.” 

There was a collective sigh of relief among the men, who were happy to receive orders and follow a plan. Tim, along with Cassie and Bart, remained at the scene. The blood shines under the faint moonlight, and were it not for the smell and scattered limbs, it might have been mistaken for dew on the grass. Looking around one last time, Tim sends his captains to help round up the men, and returns to his tent in the middle of camp to start planning a way home. 

The men had a restless night to say the least, and it shows in the sluggish behavior displayed before him. Even his generals were tired, halfheartedly barking out orders to the foot soldiers, telling them to hurry up to cover up their own yawns. Seems most of the men did not sleep at all last night, not that Tim could blame them.

In the morning light, Tim could get a better look at the scene from the night before. The blood still had yet to dry, and the smell had only gotten worse. What struck Tim as strange was the fact that it looked exactly like it did when he first saw it. Not a body part out of place. Surely the smell should have attracted some creatures. There was naught even a vulture in the sky. 

“This does not bode well.” The voice shocks Tim out of his thoughts, and the man turns around to find one of his captains, and longtime friends, looming behind him. 

“Kon, do you have anything to report?” Tim dives straight into business, knowing the other soldier wouldn’t mind. Kon is not quite human. Borne of dark magic, he was supposed to be a weapon to take down the God King, Clark. Luckily for him, Tim was well versed in magic himself, and when he stumbled upon the lair Kon was created in, Tim was able to break the mind trap spell and free the man, and the two became fast friends. Tim offered him a plot of land and a minor title, but Kon refused, saying his place was by Tim’s side. The rest, as they say, is history. Not that any more than a handful of people knew this about him, of course. Only King Bruce and Tim’s other captains, aptly named the Titans. 

“Nothing to report, General.” Kon answers promptly, hands behind his back in a show of respect. Tim had tried to get Kon to treat him less formally, but Kon seemed to enjoy being a second in command, and played his part to the fullest. 

There is a beat of silence before Kon asks, “If I may, what happened while I was out scouting?” He gestures to the carnage before them. Tim lowers his head and sighs quietly. “For the life of me, I can’t figure it out. These were the guards from last night. During first watch, they were attacked, but none of them screamed or otherwise made a noise! None of the men saw anything and there are no tracks to indicate if this was a person or a monster.” Tim rambles, more so laying the facts out for himself than to explain it to Kon.

Understanding the gist of what went on, Kon excuses himself to dig graves for the fallen. Something that never even crossed Tim’s mind. No words were exchanged between them, but they understood each other clearly and Tim reminds himself of how grateful he is to have a friend in Kon. 

The din of the soldiers is dying down, signaling their readiness to move out. If Tim was to be honest with himself, he is more than ready to get away from this place. His light armor gives off the smallest clang with each step he takes, and the fact that he can hear it sends a shiver down his spine. Usually the calling of the birds and the chirping of the insects are deafening at this time of day. Their silence now is haunting. 

Once the supplies have been double checked, the company heads out, perhaps a little faster than can be considered proper. Tim lets it slide; circumstances considered. His men have good instincts, and if they think they need to get away that badly, Tim is in no hurry to stop them. 

The trip back is uneventful, if not long. It takes nearly half a moon cycle just to get back to Gotham, and that is thanks to the unforgiving pace his men set. Not for the first time, Tim lamented the fact that his status required him to wear a full set of armor from sunup to sundown. The suit was not designed with hiking in mind. 

It is early sunup on a late summer morning that Wayne Castle makes itself visible, no small feat considering the almost perpetual fog that clings to the surrounding forests all four seasons. Tim gives his men strict orders to go home to their families and get some well-deserved rest before dismissing them. The Titans offer to stay by his side for support, but he sends them home as well, Gods know they don’t get to see their families often. 

The trudge up the daunting steps in front of the main castle gate is exhausting, considering he literally just walked to the desert and back with around five thousand men. The doors open with a flick of his wrist, startling the guards dozing off at the entrance. 

After the long journey he just had, the walk to his quarters feels like a thousand miles, and Tim scarce has time to bathe and change into a clean suit before his adopted brother is nearly breaking down his door. 

“Timmy! How was the recon mission? Are you alright? Did you get your big brother any souvenirs?” Dick prattles on, pulling him in for one of his signature bear hugs. 

The air whooshes out of Tim’s lungs at the force, and he manages to wheeze out, “Good to see you too, Dick.” Dick Grayson-Wayne was the first in line to the throne of Gotham, adopted by a young King Bruce when his parents were murdered at the traveling fair, Dick was brought up with the intention of someday taking over the kingdom before Damian Wayne showed up and declared himself Bruce's blood son, borne of the Lady Talia from the eastern nation of the sands. Even without the blood test, it was clear in Damian’s features that his claim was true. Not that Dick ever really had a problem with his future being torn away from him. Dick never really wanted to be a King, and now he is free to pursue his dream of being a traveling guardsmen with his own small company of specially trained knights. 

“Tch-” The sound came from the rafters, and looking up, Tim sees none other than the blood son himself, Damian Wayne. They had a bit of a rocky start to say the least, with many failed assassination attempts and more than a few duels. Eventually, Damian came to see that Tim was not his enemy, and they have had a fragile truce ever since. “Drake. I am surprised to see you in one piece, what with your disposition to trip over every rock placed in your path.” He sneers, but Tim is well versed in Damian talk, and translates it to the closest thing to a welcome back he is ever going to get out of the boy. 

“How long have you been waiting there?” Tim asks, ignoring the slight flush the question brings to Damian’s face. The boy deigns not to answer, looking away leading Tim to believe that the boy had been there some time, likely to gauge whether or not he was really all right. The brat had a twisted way of showing affection, and Dick was the only one who really found it charming, often pulling Damian into hugs and starting playful wrestling matches that Damian acted like he hated but literally everyone in the castle knows he loves. 

Dick coos softly, arms still encircling Tim in a hug. “We missed you little brother! I wanted to send a raven, but it would have ruined your mission if it was intercepted.” This is true, Tim was specifically ordered not to contact anyone from home, as his mission was stealth based. 

Damian jumps down from the ceiling, jumping on Tim’s bed to soften his landing. Alfred is not going to take kindly to the mussed up bed, but Tim fully plans on blaming Damian. “Father will want to hear your full report, so let us be off.” Little brat. Nonetheless, Tim and Dick follow after the little gremlin, making their way towards the throne room. 

The guards part their lances for the three princes, and the trio enter the throne room. It is a dimly lit room, more of a cave to be quite truthful, with banded iron sculptures adorning the walls in front of ornate tapestries used to cover the floor to ceiling windows, and far too few candles casting more shadows than light from the overhead chandeliers. 

At the end of the room sits a large set of thrones, simple, yet elegant in design. Bruce watches the young men approach him, his piercing eyes taking in every detail. Tim feels his gaze on him and rolls his eyes slightly. He knows Bruce is just making sure he is ok, checking for a limp to indicate an injury, or looking for any behavior that might mean he was in any way less than perfect. 

Damian is the first to make it to the throne, and he bows slightly before taking his seat next to his father. Dick gives a nod to Bruce and moves to stand to the side. Tim is the last to approach, bowing deeper than Damian and Dick, after all, he was not an actual son of the king. Tim’s parents, Jack and Janet Drake, were prominent nobles in Gotham before they were killed in an accident while they were uncovering some ancient ruins. 

Tim pestered Bruce to let him study under the ruler, to become one of the first magic knights of the kingdom. Begrudgingly, Bruce accepted, under the condition that he hold the title of third in line for the throne if Damian and Dick should be otherwise unable. Dick later indulged that Bruce fully intended to adopt Tim as one of his own, he just wanted to see how dedicated Tim was to his work. 

After his fifth snow in the castle, Tim was officially given the title of Magiknight, first of its kind in all of Gotham, after training under Bruce and teaching himself magic through the vast collection of ancient, priceless tomes throughout the castle.

Rising from his bow, Tim meets Bruce's eyes. “My King. I have officially returned from my scouting and mapping mission of the eastern sands. I offer you my report.” Tim was a good study and always speaks formally on such occasions. He likes to think it makes up for Dicks improper way of speaking and Damians rudeness. 

Bruce lets out a rumble that Tim has learned is the man’s version of a laugh. With a vague gesture of his hand, Bruce indicates for him to continue. It is a simple report, the mission having gone incredibly smoothly. Tim and his company were able to map much of the desert and its surrounding flatlands with almost no problem. There is a pause and shift of behavior when Tim mentions the slaughter of the guards. 

Damian, who had spent his first ten seasonal cycles in the desert lands, takes the information in stride. “I would write it off as an attack from a unit of stealth soldiers that roam the lands, but the carnage you describe is uncharacteristic, as is the proximity to the other men. Were it a stealth unit, they would have picked off stragglers as they went to relieve themselves or some other reason for separating from the group.” Tim starts a bit at Damian's seriousness of the subject. He fully expected Damian to say something snarky, but the young man seems genuinely thoughtful. 

Setting his arm on one of the chair rests, the boy shifts forward in his seat. “The lack of any predator or carrion suggests that a more apex creature was to blame. Tell me Drake, was there any indication of fire at the scene?” Even Bruce seems a little off put by Damians interest in the affair. Tim mentally shakes himself and answers, “No. The flesh was not burnt and the areas surrounding the scene were wet with dew at the time.” 

This information seems to agitate Damian, as he none too gently huffs out a great breath of air. “This is bad. You mentioned it was an isolated incident, yes?” Tim nods in the affirmative, not quite following where this is going. “While I was training with mother, there were rumors of a… not so human warrior. The man had apparently died, and been brought back.” Damian closes his eyes, and Bruce shifts his weight, facing his son fully. Damian continues, “Something went… wrong… in the process, and the man came back not quite himself. He was mad. I… I saw him.” The man seems to be in another place while telling his story and Tim does not remember the last time Damian seemed this shaken. “Mother was away, and I went to see the man brought back from the dead. He… was not a man anymore. His eyes glowed green, his nails as long as his fingers, and razor sharp. He was mutating as well, and showed signs of growing horns and even wings. There was no awareness in his stare. Only the deep animal urge to kill. We had to send in live animals because he wouldn’t eat anything he didn’t kill himself.” The memories seem to drag the boy down, and Bruce lays a hand on the boy’s shoulder in comfort, which seems to pull him back to the present. 

“Last I saw he was locked deep in a cell in some nondescript compound. But the speed and brutality of the kill you describe brings only him to mind.” Good Gods above! Damian looks shaken. Nothing has ever shaken the boy as far as Tim knows. Dick practically has his jaw unhinged in shock. 

Tim shakes himself from his stupor first. “Thank you for your insight, Prince Damian. I will look into the matter more deeply.” Bruce gives his son a gentle pat on the shoulder and turns to Tim. “Thank you, Timothy. T’would not do for such a monster to roam free, even if it is not on our land.” 

“What if it followed you back here?” Dick asks, concern clear in his features. Bruce opens his mouth to speak but Damian interrupts. “Did you not understand me?” He all but snarls. The three men are once again shocked into silence. This is the most emotion Damian has shown in the past five moons! “He is not a monster! He is cursed! Yes, I saw him rip apart people and animals alike just for fun, but there were times when his madness faded, and I could see his eyes begging for someone to free him! Timothy!” Damian stands, expression thunderous. “I, Prince Damian of Gotham, hereby order you to save this man from his curse!” 

Tim drops to his knees out of habit at the commanding tone, to the light gasp from Dick. “If this will rest your mind, my prince, then consider it done.” Bruce sighs heavily and rises to his feet. “A word, Damian.” Tim looks up in time to see the duo silently leave the throne room, and Dick rushes over to him as soon as they are out of sight. 

“Tim! We don’t even know if that monster exists, let alone if it was behind the attack! Why would you bind yourself to such a task?” Tim is well aware of what he has done. For a knight to take on a quest from his king or prince, means that he is unable to rest until the job in question is finished, or he dies. Even if Damian were to parish, Tim would still be bound to the quest. The man shakes his head. 

“There is more our prince knows than he lets on.” Of that, Tim is certain. “My best guess is that Damian knew the man before he died and was brought back.” Dick was far from stupid and most likely came to this conclusion himself, but lets out a long suffering sight anyhow. 

“That doesn’t make it any easier for you, Tim!” Dick says, gesturing with his hands. “We don’t have good relations with the eastern sand people! You can’t just stroll over and ask for information on their secret monster making techniques!” Tim crosses his arms. Dick does have a point, but…

“Gotham is home to one of the biggest libraries in the known world. And I can ask Cassie to look through the Amazonian archives if need be. Plus, Raven is bound to know something about necromancy.” Dick blinks, and looks at Tim with a little bit of awe. “I forgot how much of a little problem solver you are. You go to the library and I will see if I can get anything out of Damian.” Dick is already excited; he always loves a good mystery. Even when it isn’t his to solve. 

“Dick, need I remind you that Damian asked ME to look into this? Do you not have your own problems to solve?” Tim would love the help, but Dick would help everybody in the world if asked. The man was looking a little ragged as is. 

Dick shifts on his feet. “Well, there is that matter of the rouge bounty hunter, and the underground slave traders, oh and the-” Dick stops and collects himself. “Erm, well, yes. I suppose I am a bit busy myself.” Tim smirks, and turns to head to the library, cape billowing behind him. “Just, be careful Timmy!” Dick calls out after him.

The library is an impressive structure to say the least. It stands six stories tall, and holds copies of nearly every tome that has come into Gotham. Soon enough, he spots the head of the establishment. 

Barbra Gordan is the daughter of the head of the town guard, James Gordan. She was well on her way to becoming his successor when she was attacked by a wyrm, and now she walks with a heavy limp, and needs to sit down frequently. Because of her vast knowledge and even more extensive network of spies, people mistake her for an Oracle, and she has yet to correct them. 

Catching Tim's eye, she excuses herself from the conversation she was in and makes her way over. "Timothy, what can I help you with today?" She inquires, sinking into her favorite chair, one with refitted carriage wheels she can push to get around. 

Tim had spent much of his youth in this place, reading all the books he could get his hands on. He smiles fondly at the memories. "I have a rather difficult task assigned to me by the demon prince." Tim explains, and fills Barbara in on all the details in a quiet voice, not wanting someone to overhear and start any nasty rumors. 

"Well, can't say I have heard of any such ritual that resulted in successfully bringing back the dead, but I can give you some tomes that mention necromancy." She has a thoughtful look on her face, and Tim can already tell she is going to do some digging of her own.

"That would be much appreciated, my lady." Babs swats him in the thigh and snorts in a most unladylike fashion. "You know I hate being called that!" Tim lets out a surprised laugh at the intensity of the blow and promises to let her know if he needs anything else. 

Making his way to a table, Tim settles down for a long night of research. 

“Really, Drake. Sometimes it is difficult to believe you were raised in a noble house.” Damian’s voice mocking him is not how Tim wants to be woken up, nevertheless, here he is. Tim wipes some drool from the side of his mouth and takes in his surroundings.

He is at the library, cape curled around his slight frame, wax from a long dead candle pooled on the floor. Damian is standing a good ways away, judging him not so silently. “Dick has taken it upon himself to inform me that you require additional information than that of which I gave previously.” Good Gods why did the kid talk so weirdly? It takes Tim a moment to process the words before nodding. 

“What was his name?” Tim starts with, going straight to the point. Mornings have always been difficult for him and he would rather not prolong this. 

“Jason. Jason Todd.” Damian knew Tim would get this information one way or the other so he might as well make it easy for the both of them. “He was my… friend. Mother caught him stealing in the market one day and he lasted an entire ten seconds against her.” Damian always got this soft look in his eyes when he spoke of his mother, which Tim could kind of understand. Tim’s mother never really paid much attention to him and he still misses her from time to time. Damian's mother made a clone of the kid and sent him to kill Damian and the kid still misses her once every blue moon. Basically the same thing. 

“She took him in, and we trained together.” Damian continues, “He was the only one who actually wanted to train with me. I… respected him.” Tim has never seen so much emotion from Damian in the entire time he has known him than he has in the last sun cycle. 

“How did he die?” Damian had paused, so Tim decides to give him a little nudge to get him going again. He is now sitting at a table, scratching some notes from Damian's story.

“The same foul creature what did Barbara in.” There is a gasp and Tim whirls around to see Babs holding a hand to her face, horror etched into her expression. Tim should have known she was snooping. “It had taken his mother. He went to rescue her, and she betrayed him. Both of them died that day.” Damian has an oddly vacant look and Tim can clearly see this is not a subject that Damian would easily bring up.

“Mother knew how much I enjoyed his company, and so she used my grandfather’s ancient magic to bring him back. He must have had some nonhuman blood in him though, as the magic reacted poorly to him. He… came back, but not completely.” Damian stops, taking a deep breath. “You know the rest. Good day.” Tim barely blinks before Damian is gone again, nearly sprinting out the doors. 

“Gods above,” Barbara mutters, wheeling closer to Tim. The man nods in agreement and states, “Although now I have a lead. I know we have a book on the magic used by the Demon Head to attain eternal life.” Tim beams at Barbara, but his excitement quickly fades at her expression. 

“Tim…” She hesitates. “There has been another attack. Two men in an alley near a prominent brothel. Ripped to shreds in an instant.” She looks sick, and Tim holds a hand out in support. 

“Stay here, don’t go outside. I will be back.” Tim promises, and makes his way to the crime scene. 

It is just as eerie and terrible as the last time, but there can be no doubt about it. This was done by the same creature. This Jason. Blood looks like it was smeared against every surface in the alley, and the bodies are nearly unrecognizable as human. If not for the mostly intact hand with a golden signet ring, the men would probably never have been identified. A guard approaches him. “Do ya wanna talk to the witness, sir?”

Tim whips his head around so fast that his neck cracks. “Witness?!” The guard looks truly frightened at his sudden behavior, but points a shaky finger at a woman standing under a doorway. “Y-yeah, says she saw the whole thing.” 

The poor man isn’t even done talking before Tim is walking away, making a beeline for the woman. She looks to be in her later years of life as a street worker, and besides looking a little frazzled, doesn’t look too much worse for wear. 

Tim steps up to her and gives a short bow, people eat that shit up; especially when it comes from someone as high up on the ladder as Timothy Drake-Wayne. As expected, the woman preens at the attention, standing up a bit straighter and crossing her arms. 

“I am terribly sorry for the bother ma’am, but would it be too much of a burden to relay your story one more time?” The woman gives him a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but nonetheless, starts talking. 

“I was about to retire for the evening when I was approached by two men. I had never seen them before, but when you get to be my age in this business, you take what you can get. They flashed a mighty sum of gold and told me to take them somewhere private. As soon as I turned my back, they grabbed me, pushing me to the ground and tearing at my clothes like wild dogs.” She spits, eyes burning. “I closed my eyes, ready to accept the inevitable, when suddenly, the weight was lifted from my body, and I just got up and ran. When I turned around, I saw-” She blinks, turning her head away in shame. “Well, the guards didn’t believe me, but I swear to you I saw a man. Eyes aglow with an eerie green light, fingers replaced with talons, and wings. Big, leathery wings. Our gazes met, and I was certain I was dead, but it just went back to ripping apart the men, and I, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, ran.”

She looked a little shaken now, the reality of how close she came to meeting her end has probably started sinking in. “Thank you, my good lady. Would this be enough for your time and your troubles?” He holds out a generous bag of coin, and when she insists it is too much, he forces it into her hands. “If you are ever in need of a new vocation, my manor is always in need of a maid, cook or gardener. Give this token to the gate keep and then ask to speak with Mathilda.” He presses a bronze coin into her palm, emblazoned with a motif of a wyvern. The woman is teary eyed, and nods thankfully. 

Tim leaves her and walks back to the crime scene. “Well, I can safely say it is Jason, although Damian never mentioned any wings. Maybe the longer the curse affects him the further he will devolve into a monster like state?” Tim is muttering to himself, too fast and low for anyone to make out his words and the guards give him a wide berth as they go about cleaning up. “He must retain at least a sliver of humanity, for he spared that woman. One could even say he saved her.” 

With that train of thought, Tim begins to make his way back to the library. He can’t seem to shake this feeling of urgency, like things might get worse if he doesn’t act soon.

There are three more attacks in the next three days. First, a slaver Dick was tracking was ripped to shreds in the main square, but the three children he was transporting were unharmed, although very shaken. People can write off tales of demons and monsters when they come from the lips of tortured children, but they were harder to deny when the heads of three notorious murderers were strung from the cathedral with their own intestines, a feat near impossible for a human to do undetected in the dead of night. 

What really worried Tim, along with the denizens of Gotham, was the massive amount of blood that covered the main streets, the third morning, not a bone or body in sight. People are frightened, and rightly so, many choosing not to leave the fragile safety of their homes. 

These three days have not passed in vain, though. Tim, with the help of Barb and Dick, were checking every known archive for answers on how to help Jason, or at the very least subdue him. Word had been sent to Raven and Cassie to check their archives as well, and they have made some progress, albeit slow. 

The slam of a book being shut sends a cloud of dust into Tim’s face, and he coughs violently. “Dick?! Would it kill you to be a bit more careful with the priceless ancient tomes?!” Barbara reprimands the man in Tim's place, the smaller man still trying to get over his coughing fit. Dick has the sense to look guilty and moves on to the next one with significantly more care. 

“Ack- Gods above, but this is impossible! I haven’t heard so much as a mention of any manner of magic that turns a man into a mindless monster!” Tim fumes, his lack of sleep making him irritable. Just as he settles in and begins to read again, a portal opens up beside them, and Raven steps through it. 

She is adorned in ebony feathers, and the parts of her not covered in them show pallor grey skin, making her red eyes pop even more so than usual. “I believe I may have found something in my archives.” She announces, the portal closing behind her with a small snap. 

She floats in the air, feet never touching the ground. “It is written in an unnamed tome that there can be some unintended side effects when dealing with the magic pits that this Jason was put in.” Barbara, Dick and Tim give their full attention, so Raven continues. “If one with diluted blood comes into contact with the magic infused in these pits, it could restore more of one lineage than the other, causing genetic imbalance in the individual.”

“Genetics?” Tim asks, unfamiliar with the word. 

“Ah, forgive me, this dimension has no real need for that word. What I am trying to say is that this Jason was not fully human before his contact with the pit. When the magic tried to restore him, it latched on to his more dormant bloodline and rebuilt more of that. With your description of the man, I would say that he had a fraction of dragon in his blood, most likely so diluted that it never manifested into anything until the pit amped up the amount of dragon, leaving less space for human.” Dick looks completely lost, and Barb looks like her whole world is turning upside down, but Tim feels as though Ravens words unlocked the whole mystery. 

“So, what if we suppress his dragon side? If he was to suddenly wake up half dragon then the instincts and urges the dragon folk are taught to live with as children would go uninhibited. If he were to learn to control this new side of himself, would he not go back to normal?” Tim can already see the outlines of a plan. He turns to his stack of papers and starts scratching away.

Raven smiles. “I was about to suggest that very idea. I also have an ancient amulet somewhere in my archives that will allow an individual to more easily access their draconic side without the accompanying urges to give into instinct. I will let you know when I have located it. Best of luck.” Raven disappears the way she came, a portal coming into existence and seemingly swallowing her up. Not that Tim pays that any mind, his focus wholly on his task. 

Barbara and Dick turn to one another and exchange knowing looks. When Tim gets into the zone like this, there is no stopping him. Dick rises from his seat, and stretches his arms. “I am going to inform the prince of this new development. I predict he will be overjoyed and only give a slightly scathing comment.” Barb chuckles and shakes her head. “If anyone can do it, Knightwing can.”

Dick blushes, and tries to cover it up with a cough. “No one has called me that in years. Ahem, I will be off now. Let me know if Timmy here is going to do something stupid, like go after Jason alone.” He gives a wave, and is on his way. 

“According to my studies, dragons bane would be the best option, or would be if it didn’t go extinct a couple hundred cycles ago. A magic circle might be able to hold him for a short time, but how would I get him to step into one? I could try and set a trap of sorts, but what could I use as bait?” Tim is mumbling to himself, currently trying to read three separate books at once. 

He stands up suddenly, causing Barbara to startle and nearly spill her tea. “That’s it! I just have to make a re-enforced magic circle and perform a summoning rite! I may not have his full name, but because of his weak mental state he will feel a strong pull to come to me and I can then trap him!” Tim is now attempting to hold a piece of chalk steady enough to draw some lines on the floor.

“Hey! No! Not in the library you fool!” Barbara wheels herself to his side in record time and slaps the back of his head, causing the chalk to get dislodged from his grip and roll across the floor. “What were you thinking?! What good would it do to draw him here?! Are you going to read him a book and hope he comes to his senses?!” Tim is only slightly set back, already reaching for another book. 

Barb gives an exasperated sigh. “Did you even hear me?” Her answer comes in the form of Tim muttering some nonsense about the size of a magic circle and its impact on its strength. For now, she goes around picking up every piece of chalk she can find, so even if he does get a stupid idea like that again, he won’t be able to go through with it. 

Tim is lost in his head. Sigils, spells and incantations are buzzing through his mind, trying to find the perfect combination. He is unsure of how much time has passed since Raven came, but gods strike him down if he doesn’t already have half a plan strung together. 

Speak of the devil’s daughter, and she shall appear. A portal opens and Raven reemerges, feathers rustling from some cosmic wind Tim cannot feel. She holds out a hand and Tim accepts the offering. It is a collar, about the width of a lady’s finger and made out of some manner of metal. 

“At the risk of sounding ungrateful,” Tim starts, knowing no question has ever been good with that kind of set up. “It is… smaller than I expected. What if it breaks?” 

Raven lets out a low chuckle that seems to echo for longer than normal. “I would like to meet the being that could destroy such old and powerful magic. You must be truly worn out to ask such a thing, Timothy. I bid you,” She plucks a feather from her garment and holds it in the sunlight. Huh. He must have missed the sunrise. Or the past three sunrises. It’s a toss-up with him. “REST.” Raven commands, bringing the feather down to touch Tim on the forehead. 

Tim wakes up in his room at his own manor, not at the castle. He feels better than he has in ages but feels a little annoyed that Raven resorted to using magic on him to get him to take a break. He mutters to himself about taking care of his own damn self as he gets ready to spend another day studying. 

“Master Drake?” There is a knock at his door. “Can I get you anything, sir?” He walks over to his door while he finishes putting on his shirt. Upon opening it, he is greeted by the woman he interviewed the other day. A warm smile spreads across his face and she mirrors it right back to him. 

She looks much healthier and Tim is honestly glad she chose to change her career. As if reading his mind, she speaks. “I just want to thank you again for offering me this job, Master Drake.” She gives him a deep bow.

“It makes me happy to help others, so it should be me who is thanking you, my dear. And please, call me Tim. I cannot stand to be called ‘master’.” Tim’s manor is made up of many such strays. People who were down on their luck, homeless, or wronged, Tim loved to give people second chances, and they were paid exceptionally well for being servants to a mostly empty home. 

Bruce had chided him before on his choices of staff, but Tim knew that he did the same whenever he got the chance. Really, where did he think Tim learned how to treat people in need? It’s like Bruce forgets that he was Tim’s childhood hero. 

“I really must be going, but it was wonderful seeing you again.” Tim says smoothly, walking with the woman to the door. Stopping at the main door, Tim whirls around. “I cannot believe my manners! I don’t think I have asked you for your name yet.” With all of Tim’s training in etiquette, there are still times when such simple things fly by him. 

“Esmeralda, my lord. And please, if you will not allow me to call you master than you can at least let me call you lord. For my sake.” She holds herself a little higher when saying this and Tim understands. Many maids prided themselves on how well they served their liege, and this was no different. “Of course, Esmeralda. Have a splendid morning.”

Tim had decided on wearing casual clothes today, or what someone of his status would call casual. A white button up shirt with long sleeves tucked into black dress pants. His black boots were a staple of almost every one of his outfits as well. He had them specially made with a hidden heel to give him a little extra height. Despite his appearance, many still recognized him as he walked the streets. 

Luckily, there had been no attack the night prior, but Tim knew that could only mean the next attack is going to be much worse. Which brings him to the far side of the city, in an old warehouse by the docks. His equipment and gear were already there, brought by one of his men hours prior. The afternoon light trickles in as Tim sets to work. 

It is early evening when Tim finally finishes the augmented magic circle. All that is left to be done is light the candles and set out the incense, and then Tim can begin the ritual. 

Needless to say, Barbara and Dick were left out of this plan, Tim opting to do it alone. Damian was aware but had faith in Tim’s abilities. Dick would have crowded him, and Barbara would have insisted on helping and it is easier for Tim to work alone. Plus, if his plan doesn’t work out, only he has to die and not his family too. 

Digging the collar out of his bag, Tim holds it in his open palm and begins his incantation. He memorized it earlier, and even though severely sleep deprived at the time, he remembers the words clearly.

The candles begin to flicker, and an unnatural wind begins to stir, but Tim never wavers in his casting, and his magic holds strong, keeping the candles from dying and the chalk from being swept away. The runes he drew on the walls start to glow, and Tim can feel Jason getting closer. 

Glass shatters and falls around him, turning first to ice, then dust as the magic he casts protects its wielder. When the dust settles, Tim gets his first look at Jason. 

The man is huge. Most likely because of his newfound dragon lineage, he is nearly double Tim’s height and absolutely beautiful. His skin is tinged red and almost glowing without giving off any light, meaning he is covered in impenetrable dragon scales. Most dragon folk now days have only one or two traits to show for their dragon lineage, having nearly been bred out by the human aspects. 

Jason seems more dragon than human though, because aside from his scales, he also boasts a pair of impressive horns, deer like in appearance. His large tail sweeps the ground, and if Tim had not been casting a spell, the force from the wind would have sent him flying. The most striking part about the man are his wings. Gargantuan in size, covered in blood red feathers. So THAT is how he flies around unheard. Whereas leathery wings, especially ones large enough to lift his monstrous form off the ground, would make noise each time they were moved, the feathers were silent, masking the sound of his flight like an owl. 

Tim nearly falters in his incantation, so busy was he at marveling at the beauty of Jason that he almost lets his guard down. 

The monster senses this, choosing that moment to strike. Luckily, Tim had set up the magic circle in a way that not only would Jason be trapped in it, but it would shrink in size every time he attempted to damage it. Which he did. Three times in quick succession. Acting more out of rage than a plan, the beast howls, walls of the dilapidated warehouse shaking with the force. Tim steps forward with each hit Jason delivers to the walls closing in on him until he is forced to fold his wings in and can barely reach out an arm.

He is even more striking up close. His green eyes almost seem to glow. He stops howling, eyes darting around in panic at the space closing in on him. Tim can see the humanity in him and accidently stutters his spell at the same time he reaches to place the collar on Jason. 

The magic breaks just as Tim manages to clasp the collar into place, but not before Jason lashes out, claws piercing his abdomen. Tim lets out a choked gasp, then slumps into the arms of a now human Jason, magic nearly spent, and slips into unconsciousness.

“What are you doing to him?” Tim regains consciousness for a few excruciating moments to hear an unfamiliar voice. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you!” Tim falls back into unconsciousness before the conversation can go any further. 

The next time Tim wakes up, he is enveloped in a warm cocoon of feathers. They are softer than anything he can remember, and they seem familiar, but Tim is falling back into sleeps embrace before he can figure it out. 

The third time Tim is woken up. Not pleasantly either, mind you. “Todd! You have coddled him enough! If Tim is alright then why is he not awake?” Damian demands. Tim doesn’t see him, but knows that voice well enough to figure it out. There is the sound of scuffling outside his door as Tim takes in his surroundings. 

He is in his room at the castle, currently in the large canopy bed. He tries to sit up but groans in pain at the action, clutching his side. His entire torso is bandaged. There is a noticeable silence in the hallway now. Tim glances to the door, expecting Damian but finding a very handsome man instead. 

“You’re awake!” The man beams at him, rushing to his side instantly, checking his bandages and his head for a temperature. “How do you feel? Does it hurt?” The man asks but Tim is paying him no heed. He looks so familiar…

Before he can think of why, Damian is shouldering his way past the large man and getting right into his face. “You fool! I gave you the quest with the faith that you would complete it without bringing yourself to the brink of death, but it seems you are set in your way of trying to die every time you do something!” With all Tim’s experience of dealing with Damian, he can clearly see that Damian was worried sick about him but cannot express himself, so he is lashing out. Typical. 

The memories choose that moment to return, and Tim blinks, turning to the handsome man. “Jason?” His voice is raspy, and he almost falls into a coughing fit after the one word. Instantly there is a glass of water in his hands and he greedily gulps it down. 

Damian fills him in while he drinks. “This is Jason Todd, he was found in the streets, naked, carrying a bleeding man in his arms asking for help. Luckily, someone recognized you and you were quickly brought here, where I, in turn, recognized Todd.” Damian shoots the man in question a look from his perch on the edge of the bed before continuing.

“Your recovery took longer than usual because Todd refused to leave your side since then, snapping at anyone that came to help you. We eventually had to call in the arch mage Leslie to heal you, as she was the only one who could get Todd to stand down long enough to treat you.” Tim starts a little at that. While the tales of an extraordinarily powerful white witch were abundant, few people actually believed she exists. Tim was one of those people, and it was considered a stain on his reputation by his peers in the arcane arts, to believe in what they considered to be a fairy tale.

Jason shudders, and Tim can feel it with how close they are. “That woman is a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure.” He takes the now empty cup from Tim’s hands and sets it on the side table. Tim is staring at the man, confused as to why he is so invested in him. 

Tim clears his throat and deems himself capable of speaking. “How long was I out?” He directs the question to Damian, still not quite sure what to think of Jason.

The prince rises to his feet and smooths out the nonexistent wrinkles in his green attire. “You were out for a full moon. I must send for Richard now, the man was practically insufferable while you were in recovery, and will want to see you immediately.” With that, Damian is gone, leaving Tim alone with Jason. The man who put him in this spot. 

Tim is gently yet firmly pushed down onto the bed, then wrapped up in Jason’s large arms. Tim relaxed despite being incredibly confused. He needs to know some things before this man turned monster turned man cuddles him to death.

“So, you did this to me?” Tim asks bluntly, not in the mood to sugarcoat things. Jason stiffens around him and his arms retract. The man sits up and looks Tim in the eyes. 

“I feel it necessary for me to begin my story long before I met you. May I?” There is a vulnerability in his voice, hidden under a heavy layer of sarcasm. Gods, it's like dealing with Damian. Jason is probably where Damian picked up the stunted emotion sharing, Tim thinks. Nonetheless, he nods, urging Jason to continue. 

The man hunches over his legs, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to meet Tim’s eyes. Tim listens to all of Jason’s story, developing an understanding for some of the man’s mannerisms. Abusive father, drug addict stepmother, and when they were gone, he found his birth mother. Who then sold Jason’s soul to the mad wyrm, the selfsame fiend that nearly ended Barbara. 

Then he tells Tim about waking up in the pit. “It was agony. Every beat of my heart felt like a stab, every breath like my lungs were filled with razors. I couldn’t even scream.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Tim swears Jason’s eyes glowed green for a moment. 

“Then I felt… nothing. No pain, no sadness, but also no joy or excitement. I was empty. For a long time.” Tim doesn’t remember when he sat up, but he is now seated next to Jason, and has a comforting hand on the man’s back as he continues. “I trained. I ate. I slept. I just went through the motions. Then I started having symptoms. Blackouts. I would lose an entire afternoon, and find myself far away from my camp. Then I lost sun cycles. I would lose many at a time, waking up covered in blood. One night, I woke up in a cage. They told me I killed a man who was later found to have child slaves. They told me I was doing good, but I had to be caged for the safety of others. For the first time, I felt something. I felt anger. It was terrifying. That was about five season cycles ago.” 

He looks small, not physically of course, the man is a tank, but he looks like a child who is trying to say something that he does not have the vocabulary to describe. “The next memory I have is of you. I woke up to find you draped over me, bleeding out. I knew you were going to die. There was so much blood. I felt this scratch in my mind, some urge I couldn’t deny.” He looks away, and Tim almost feels like he can feel the turmoil inside Jason. “I forced you to drink my blood, not knowing why. As soon as it touched your lips, your wounds stopped bleeding. I was so happy that I hugged you, I was smiling and overjoyed that I could finally do something good, but you were covered in your own blood and I accidentally got some on my mouth and then I licked my lips and now we are basically married.” 

Jason stops talking to take a breath, and Tim holds up a hand. “Wait. You lost me. I was following along pretty well before you mentioned something about marriage?” The man is beautiful, with his strong build and turquoise eyes, his hair a mop of black with a strike of white in the front. But Tim just met the man, and he is pretty sure Bruce would never agree to just give him away to a man who just spent a good portion of his adult life killing criminals while mostly taken over by draconic blood lust. 

Jason sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, Leslie told me that I incited an ancient draconic bonding ceremony, and it only works on people with draconic ancestry.” 

Tim sighs. “It only bonds two people if they both are descended from dragons? Then what is the problem?”

Jason is blushing now. “W-well, if I attempted to bond with someone who doesn’t have dragon in their blood, it would kill them. Instantly.” Tim stares in shock. 

“So- I died?” There is no magic that could have brought him back to life without some kind of bargain, so how-

Jason cuts off his train of thought. “What? No. Tim, your family name is Drake. As in a type of dragon. Are you telling me you never knew you had dragon blood?” Now Jason just looks confused. And Tim is equally as confused. 

“Ok,” Tim starts. “You bonded with me and saved my life. Well now we can just break the bond, right?” Tim feels his chest constrict painfully, mirroring the pain on Jason’s face. 

Oh. 

“Dragons bond for life. The only way to break a draconic bond is death. Of both parties.” Jason is withdrawing, and moves to stand up. “If one of us dies, the other will die too, our lives are literally one. I need some air. Get some rest.” Tim can feel the hurt Jason is radiating, and tries to call him back, but Jason is already out the door, walking away.

“TIMMY!” Is all the warning he gets before Dick is wrapping him up in a full body hug. Barbara wheels in behind him and gives him a smile. “Let go of him, Dick. He is still recovering.” 

If possible, the arms around him tighten. “I thought we lost you baby bird.” He whispers and Tim can hear the anguish in his voice. He has the decency to feel a little guilty for making them worry. 

After a long period of switching between placating Dick and explaining his findings with Barbara, minus the bonding, Tim is left alone with his thoughts. 

It had barely been half a sun cycle, but Tim was exhausted, his body still healing. Too bad he had so much work to catch up on, especially since he had been out for so long. It takes him a long while, but eventually he is dressed and at the door, ready to work. 

He looks out the doorway and into the hall. It’s blessedly empty, meaning he can lean on the walls for support without anyone noticing and worrying about him. He makes his way towards one of the lesser used side doors of the castle, fully intending on walking back to his home. 

He doesn’t make it that far.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! I was overwhelmed by the support and love from the comments and wanted to make sure I put my best effort in to this! I am thinking of adding an extra chapter where they get home and Jason has to win over the family as well as Tim, but for now, this is good. I hope you enjoy!

“Stupid, of course he took it badly, he just woke up!” Jason is mumbling to himself as he kicks a pebble, sending it flying towards a garden wall. It thunks against the masonry, making a pleasing sound, yet Jason feels no satisfaction.

Tim had taken the news pretty badly, to say the least. Not that Jason expected him to cheer and throw him a banquet and invite the kingdom for a wedding, but a tiny, irrational part of him wanted just that. Which was stupid. 

Gods above, he knows he is pouting but he was so excited to be free from the past season cycle. He was a prisoner in his own body, rarely aware enough to know what he was even doing. Tim saved him. Jason owes his life to Tim. And Tim doesn’t want him. 

Leslie warned him to break the news gently to Tim. Why couldn’t he just listen for once? His emotions were swirling, and he put his head in his hands to calm himself. Instead of hair, his fingertips brushed across something hard and solid. He lets his hands wander the objects before finding they are attached to his head, sprouting from just past his hairline. 

He peers hesitantly into a small birdbath on the side of the garden trail and flinches at what he sees. 

Horns. Small ones, barely noticeable to the passerby, but strikingly obvious to him. It is a sign that he is getting out of control, and his newfound dragon side is trying to break through. It is still alarming to see, but Jason is glad it wasn’t his wings. 

That was something. Tim had taken a turn for the worse, right before Leslie arrived, shaking violently and almost cold to the touch. No amount of blankets and bed warmers could warm him up, and Jason was getting desperate. That was the first time the wings made an appearance. 

The sudden weight made him lurch backwards, and to stop himself from falling, he threw himself on top of Tim. Who immediately stopped shaking and snuggled right into Jason’s chest. It was the single cutest thing the man had ever experienced, and he knew he was fucked right then and there. 

His wings were troublesome at first, he didn’t want to let Tim go, but he also couldn’t lie down, but eventually he found a comfortable position on his side, which allowed one of his wings to drape over their sleeping forms, discarding the need for blankets. 

They were gone when he woke up, and Leslie was there at that point, so they were no longer needed. Sometimes his fingernails would sharpen into claws if he felt Tim was in any sort of danger, like when that quack tried to take a sample of blood. So, this has happened before, and all he needs to do is calm down, take a deep breath, and let it out.

He reaches for his head again and is relieved to find nothing but hair. He begins his walk again, returning to his moping.

He feels a shot of dread tingle in the base of his spine, but it is over as soon as it starts, and he writes it off as nothing.

It is sundown when he returns to the castle, and everyone is bustling about, more so than usual. A servant spots him and rushes over to him. “Is master Drake with you, sir?” He asks, hope lighting up in his eyes. “We can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

Jason freezes, staring into the man’s eyes. “You mean to tell me you lost Prince Timothy?” Jason knows he sounds deathly calm, and he can only imagine what his face looks like. The man cowers, bowing low, and scurrying away before Jason can do anything. 

He stalks to the room he left Tim in, and stands in the doorway, gazing at the empty bed. There are no visible signs of struggle, so Tim must have left of his own accord. That calms him somewhat, and he can feel the scales rippling just under his skin fade away. 

He takes a deep breath and lets the scents sort themselves out in his mind. That is one perk to being basically half dragon, he can see better, hear better and smell better. His senses are sharp, razor focused, with one goal in mind. 

Find Tim.

Tim has a unique and tantalizing smell. It is slightly bitter, yet light and airy. Certainly nothing a human nose could ever comprehend. It is Jason’s favorite smell, and he got to be creepy and smell Tim all the time while he was recovering. Now the scent is stale, nearly half a sun cycle old. 

The other knight, Dick, was here too. As well as the cripple. Those are the freshest scents in the room, and thus Jason’s first targets. 

Dick is not hard to find. He is practically jumping from the rooftops, screaming Tim’s name as loud as he can. It’s irritating. Jason scales the walls of the castle with ease, he has been climbing since he was a boy, and with his new strength, it is even easier. 

“Quite a show.” Jason manages to get close enough to whisper in the man’s ear, but does not expect to find himself face down on the tiles. He barely saw the man move, and he has heightened senses.

“Oh! Little Wing! Is Tim with you?” Dick springs up letting Jason get on his feet. The nickname started when the knight walked in on Jason and Tim while he was wrapped up in his wings, and despite Jason’s protests, it stuck. 

Jason stays silent for a moment, unnerved. He breathes in heavily to try and find a scent of Tim. It is there, but it is faint and stale. Dick does not have Tim. “No. Stop yelling.” Jason quips, already off to find the girl, Barbara. In Tim’s weakened state, even a cripple could manage to steal him away. 

“Wait, Jason!” Dick is calling out to him, but Jason doesn’t care. If Dick knew anything important he would have been following the lead himself. 

Predictably, Barbara is working away in the archives, and Jason doesn’t even have to talk to her to know that Tim is not here either. She is surrounded by books, her chair blocked in by the sheer amount of scrolls and tomes piled around her. 

She does hear him enter, and speaks up. “Jason? What can I help you with?” She glances up at him over her spectacles. 

He takes a deep breath, not only searching for a trace of Tim, but just taking in the smell of old books. Gods strike him down if he didn’t truly enjoy a good story. “Nothing you need trouble yourself with, Barbara.” Whereas Dick is annoying and always trying to talk to him, Barbara gives him his space, but when she needs information, she is a force to be reckoned with. 

Smelling nothing but paper and ink, he leaves a befuddled Barbara to her task and returns to the castle. It is dusk, and Jason wants to avoid the bustle of people in the main halls, so he takes a side door, reasoning that he could easily find his way back to Tim’s quarters. 

He was wrong, and now the sun has fully set, nearly completing its cycle and Jason is fairly certain he had passed this exact painting three times now. He is agitated, and worry is beginning to set in. Where could Tim go? 

There.

Jason smells him. Fresher than all the other scents. His head whips around, trying to locate where it is coming from. He stumbles into the next hall and spots a drop of blood on the floor near the south wall. Tim’s blood. 

He feels the familiar pull of unbridled rage attempting to take him over, but with the help of the talisman Tim gifted him, he is able to keep his wits about him. 

He doesn’t even try to stop his transformation this time, goes as far as to embrace it, reveling in the feeling of the scales rippling just under his skin, and the comfortable weight of his crimson wings. He can smell even better now, and picks up on a few new details of the scene in front of him. 

If he could think of anything other than the fact that someone has Tim, he might have been able to spare a moment to feel pride in the fact that he is apparently able to transform his body without damaging his mind. A thought for later, perhaps.

Tim must have been leaning on the walls for support, what with his weak state. It seems there were two- no, three enemies hiding out in the hall and they must have jumped him.

Everything clicks into place. The dread he felt earlier when he was traipsing through the gardens. He wrote it off as one of his emotions, but it was Tim. His mate. 

His mate. He never thought of it that way before, probably because it is more of an animalistic term than he is used to, but it fits nicely into the cluster of circumstance that led them together. Jason would prefer to call Tim his bride, but has a feeling the other man won’t find it as appealing. 

The assailants scent repulses Jason, and he cannot for the life of him pinpoint why. It is almost familiar, but his mind is a mess of rage and dismay that he can’t think straight. Tim may not want him, but Jason is tied to him no matter how he feels. It was the only way to save his life. 

If Jason saves him, will he fall in love with him? The thought makes him stop and think. No matter what, Jason is going to save Tim, that is a given, but can he do it in such a way that will make Tim see how much he cares? 

Jason crosses his arms over his chest, pondering. Its fail proof. Two birds with one stone. It’s perfect. All he needs to do now is find where Tim is being kept and break him out in such a way that will make him instantly change his mind about Jason. 

The positive thinking is doing wonders to clear his mind. He is no longer a mass of rage and other such dangerous emotions, and his appearance is mostly back to normal. 

He takes a seat right in the middle of the corridor and thinks upon the smell. He knows he has smelled it before, so now it is a matter of where and when. Why can’t he place it? 

He is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the approach of the King himself. “Found something?” Bruce booms, making Jason jump up and assume a defensive stance. 

He doesn’t know what to make of King Bruce. The man is always scowling, but at parties and other social events that Jason snuck into while watching over Tim, the man was a whole different person. He was all smiles and jokes, playing up his dumb act. Jason cannot figure out his motives for this, however hard he tries. 

Straightening up, Jason fixes his glare on the man. “Nothing worth sharing.” Annoyed at how close he was to figuring out who the smell belonged to, he turns his back to the king, and finds himself sprawled out on the floor before he knows what hit him. 

“OOF- Gods above! Now I know where Dick learned that trick, feel like teaching me too?” Bruce is considerably larger than Dick was, but Jason is still able to easily-

Ok. He is definitely able to throw him off, just give him a moment.

All the Gods above, what does this man weigh?! Jason is actively straining, trying to get a better hold on the man who was the first in cycles to effectively pin him with what seems like inhuman strength. He flexes his wings, thinking his extra appendages will grant him an edge, but he is still unused to the new muscles, and they only flop pathetically.

King Bruce is fast too. Jason barely blinks before the man is off him and nearly two strides away. Jason is angry at himself for being bested, but does not let the anger control him. Even he knows when he is outmatched. 

“I believe I asked you a question.” There it is again, the clipped and haughty tone the man uses when no socialites or nobles are within earshot. Jason looks him up and down as he gets off the floor. 

“What does it matter to you?” Jason hisses, making a shooing motion with his hand. “Go away, I need to concentrate.” He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath, trying to reach a memory from the back of his mind. As he focuses on just the sense of smell, he can feel his other draconic features melt away, and the scent strengthens. 

Time passes and Jason figures the King left him to his own devices. Then suddenly, there is a hand on his shoulder and Jason growls. “I told you to go away! I almost have it! Don’t you want me to find him you sack of shit?!” His voice breaks on the last word, and Bruce takes a sharp breath. The hand leaves his shoulder and he hears the man take a few loud paces back, then stop, letting Jason have his personal space while at the same time not actually granting him the privacy he wants.

Jason figures that’s the best he is going to get out of the royal and refocuses on his task. For what feels like the hundredth time. It takes him a couple breaths to calm down enough to register the scent again, and Jason is back in the recesses of his mind. 

“Greetings Bruce, whatever are you staring at? What is Jason doing?” Dick’s voice cuts through the parchment that was Jason’s patience and he whirls around to find not only the king and knight, but also the archivist and the prince. God’s above, this family.

Jason feels his skin ripple and the familiar weight of his wings is back. Egads, he finally got things under control, so of course the gods have to throw him off again. “It’s like you don’t even want me to find him! Is it such a difficult task for you to stay out of my way? Every moment counts, he could be hurt, or sick, or worse!” He can barely get the words out, his tongue becoming more and more difficult to work with and his teeth are elongating. 

The group stares in shock at the gradual transformation, and Dick subtly plants himself in front of Barbara, who jabs him in the spine for his efforts. “LEAVE” Jason hisses, although the word sounds strange to his ears. His tongue is now forked, he notices as it flicks out to taste the air. 

Bruce looks like he is going to speak but Jason freezes, and all his new features are gone in a blink. He remembers now. The war. He died. He woke up. The scent. It’s the warriors from the east. Ra’s Al Ghul. The Demon. 

The Demon has his mate. The Demon took him from Jason, right under his nose. 

The Demon will die. 

Jason figures the others are saying things, but pays them no mind as his legs are already carrying him outdoors. The moment the fresh air hits his face, he feels his wings reappear. He pants a bit, the stress from hiding them and taking them out so many times weighing on him. But he doesn’t slow as he takes to the air. 

He couldn’t tell you how, but he is flying, wings flapping and scales streamlining his body. It must be muscle memory, because Jason would remember this feeling if he had ever been lucid for any of his time as a monster. 

Back on the ground, King Bruce watches silently as Jason disappears into the night, and listens to his son’s argument about privacy invasion. “He was standing in the middle of a main hallway! How was I to know he wanted to be left alone?” Dick argues, to which Damian retorts, “Did you even bother to read the atmosphere before you opened your mouth? Honestly, Grayson. It’s hard to believe you are the eldest at times.” Dick lets out an indignant squawk and the bickering goes on. 

“Hnn.” Bruce grunts, silently wishing the best for the man, and praying to the gods that his son is saved before it is too late. 

Jason passes out a couple of times during his flight, but manages to wake up in time to stop his plummeting descent to sure death in the nick of time. After the third incident of this, he rationalizes that he needs to rest. He spots an old oak tree and crash lands in its branches, not quite knowing how to land properly. 

“Augh! Ack, c’mon!” He scrabbles for purchase among the bark and manages to find an empty crawl space in the trunk, about a wingspan down from where he landed. With a bit of maneuvering he makes it to the hole and checks it out. 

It’s nothing fantastic, just a giant hole in a giant tree that a griffin had probably used at one point as a nest. Jason sniffs the air, triple checking that the space is not already in use and is pleased to smell nothing other than the faint smell of griffin. 

Smug about his correct assumption on the past tenant, Jason smirks as he makes himself comfortable in the space, his wings providing ample cushion for sleep. He rests until the sun is halfway up to its apex, not realizing how tired he actually was.

He scratches the area around the nest to mark it as his. He would rest here again on the way back with Tim after he rescues him. 

Jason is surprised to find that he knows where he is going. Well, maybe that is not right. He knows which direction he should be going. With no other intelligence to lead him, he follows his gut, soaring over the seas of sand towards the horizon. 

The sun is well past its apex when Jason finally spots something. It’s a compound, large walls caging in small huts and tents that were sporadically placed in the sand. Another piece of his memory clicks in place, and he knows this to be the entrance to a massive underground cave system. This was the place he was sent to find when he was a soldier, before he died. 

The details surrounding how he died are still cloudy, but that is of little importance now. Jason feels in his very bones that Tim is somewhere in there. He cannot just fly through the caves, however, and needs to come up with a plan to infiltrate the compound. 

There is a small prick in his shoulder, and he looks down to find the shattered remains of an arrow falling to the ground. He has been spotted. 

Secretly happy that he can use his brute force instead of a plan, thinking that it looks more manly and Tim would likely be impressed at his show of strength at the very least, Jason dives down to the compound, dodging arrows left and right. 

The security is very lacking, and within moments, Jason is the only one left standing. He scents the air, trying to find a hint that will lead him to Tim. There is a very offensive odor that permeates the air here, making Jason cringe. Guess he will have to find another way to find his mate. 

He walks among the tents, noting which ones were used for storage, food and shelter, and ones that are entrances to the caves. He is quick to note the placement of exits before he makes his way underground. 

It is mostly empty, large stalagmites rising to meet stalactites that hang like dark daggers from the ceiling of the cave. There are a few guards mulling about, and Jason dispatches of them quickly. He follows his gut when faced with multiple forks in the tunnel. 

Eventually, there is a large opening and Jason steps out of a tunnel to find himself in a sprawling underground city. The entire city of Gotham could fit in this cavern, with room to spare. Jason balks a bit at the sheer size of the space. Tim could be anywhere!

There is a rising castle in the dead center of the city, and it looks to be carved out of the rock itself. If Tim was taken as a political prisoner, he would likely be held there. Spreading his wings, Jason climbs as high as he dares among the stalactites, weaving carefully between them as he makes his way to the stronghold. 

Unlike the tunnels, the cavern seems to be heavily guarded, and Jason is nearly seen a number of times, and in one instance, shot at. The person was not too bright, and figured out the hard way why shooting at hanging columns of rock was a poor decision. Using the scene as a distraction, Jason manages to clamber through a window while the stationed guard ran to help the man who got his leg crushed by a stalactite. 

Jason is running out of ideas. He got here, he found the city, infiltrated the castle, but now he is lost. The stench from earlier is even stronger here, rendering Jason’s nose useless. Even if he did know which part of the building Tim was being held in, he would still be clueless on how to get there. 

A quick search of the surrounding area confuses him even more. There are maids cleaning floors, men in fancy suits doing paperwork, and guards patrolling the halls. Not even Bruce had security like this. Just what is this place?

He hears the approach of boots, and manages to hide himself in a side room just in time to avoid a herd of armor clad men and women filing into the chamber. Great. There is no way to take all of them out quietly. Not if they can fight. Jason curses his luck.

“As you all know,” A voice quiets the murmur of voices from the group, and Jason perks his ears, ready to eavesdrop on what he hopes to be an interesting meeting. “The auction is tonight. Many distinguished individuals have cleared their schedules to be here, and many of the more… shady individuals have also gathered here, as is the nature of this auction. It is in our best interest to keep the peace, and to stop people from getting into… altercations with each other.” The man drones on, and Jason is starting to get bored. It’s a security briefing meeting for the newer guards. How interesting. It does explain the obscene amount of security however. 

“Remember, you represent the Demon. To let him down would be… against your best interests.” Jason had a feeling when he first saw the castle that this was the stronghold of the Demon, but the man’s words cements his theory. “The crown jewel of the auction is priceless beyond imagination, so be sure to remain extra vigilant when guarding his quarters. He is known to be incredibly resourceful and cunning. He was trained by the Gotham King since childhood and is not an individual to be underestimated.” 

Tim. They have to be talking about Tim. Jason struggles to hold himself back from kicking down the door and ripping the group to shreds. He needs more information. His luck begins to turn, as the whole group is assigned to guard the area where Tim is being held. He even manages to find a guard uniform in the closet of the room he is trapped in. 

As the man drones on about the proper way to hold the assigned weapons, which way to address which noble and other trivial things, Jason sends up a thanks to the gods for his stroke of luck. The man is unwittingly teaching Jason the best way to infiltrate the stronghold and is leading him directly to his target. 

The man eventually stops lecturing and leads the people towards their assigned spots. Jason falls into line behind the last cadet, and his body falls into a familiar march, likely thanks to his soldier training in his first life. Who but the gods knew that would come in handy? 

The walk is long, and Jason doubts his ability to remember the way back once he has Tim. The head guard assigns people to spots along the halls and stops when he spots Jason. 

“I don’t believe I have had the pleasure to make your acquaintance yet, sir.” The man defers to him and Jason realizes that the uniform he found displays a rank above that of the guard. Thinking quickly, Jason straightens up and preens under the attention. He doesn’t quite know why, but he knows that higher up military officials are utter assholes, and he needs to play his A game right now. 

“Thank you for noticing, I was only following your group for a stroll through half the floor.” The man pales a bit and offers his sincere apologies, and Jason waves him off. “I am to watch over the room where the… merchandise… is stored.” Jason makes his voice indifferent, a harder task than he had thought. 

It seems to convince the man, who bows and leads Jason to the room Tim is supposedly locked in. The rest of the recruits are stationed in the adjoining hallways and Jason plans his escape route accordingly. The room would not have any windows, as it is in the middle of the labyrinth of halls that the guards are stationed at. Jason would have to take some of them out to get away without raising any alarms.

The guards are stationed to rotate, always having at least one other person in sight at all times, meaning there are no opportunities to pick them off one by one without them noticing. It’s genius, Jason admits to himself, his back against the door. He listens as hard as he can, and can barely make out the even breathing on the other side. 

It’s Tim. Jason listened to him breathe for cycles while he was healing, he knows the little snore that barely passes his lips every other breath. His mate is so close, so close and he can’t get to him. Jason feels the eyes on him, knows he can’t just break into the room and grab him. 

Wait, actually. He can. Jason breaks the role of soldier, and can feel his body physically change. He gets taller, his skin ripples with hidden scales, and his head becomes heavier from his horns. The guards gasp, and Jason knocks the first one out before they can blink. The rest fall quickly and silently, barely able to draw a breath before they are incapacitated. 

Jason finds a small storeroom and crams the bodies into it. They are still breathing. Well, most of them. He doesn’t care so he doesn’t check. Once they are out of sight, Jason turns his attention to the door. It’s nothing special, just a door, and Jason punches it. 

Pain laces through his arm, even through the protective scales. It was like punching a rock face. There is no indication that he just nearly shattered his arm trying to destroy the door, and he realizes that it is most likely enchanted. 

“Stupid magic…” Jason mutters, pacing the hall while cradling his arm. It no longer hurts, the speed of his healing is extraordinary now, but he is still spiteful about the whole ordeal. At least Tim didn’t see him get outsmarted by a door. 

Jason thinks about the best way to rescue Tim. The door may be enchanted, but he doubts the walls are, and he could break one of those down to get to him. Tim does not strike him to be easily swayed by shows of brute strength though. He will have to think very carefully to solve this riddle, and then Tim will be amazed by his intellect! 

Mind set, Jason glares at the door, hoping in some small part that it will just open on its own. 

It doesn’t. Jason moves on to plan B, a step down from telekinesis, but still using his head. He gently grabs the door handle, and tries turning it. 

The door opens easily, and Jason is beyond angry. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. The door was unlocked this whole gods forsaken time?!” He stage whispers, stepping into the dimly lit room. 

He takes in the scene before him. There are candles on every possible surface, and Jason gags at the overwhelming stench that assaults him. This is the source of the smell? God’s above, he could smell it from the surface! How long has Tim been exposed to this? How has he breathed?

Speaking of Tim, there is a large bed in the center of the room with a suspiciously Tim shaped figure lying under a thin blanket. Jason creeps closer and reaches a hand out to grasp the sheet, wanting to pull it off. 

The moment he pulls the sheet off him, Tim is moving. With a quiet war cry, Tim produces a knife from somewhere and tries to stab Jason in the leg, right above an artery. The knife shatters when it hits his scales, and Tim gasps. 

“Jason?!” His eyes are wide, and he is just as beautiful as Jason remembers. “How did you get here?” Tim is nearly naked, clad in only a sheer silk robe. Jason knows this change in wardrobe is not Tim’s choice, and growls at the thought of another touching him.

Tim mistakes the meaning of the growl and shrinks back a bit. Jason feels a wave of guilt and gathers him in his arms, holding him tightly. There is a flash of warmth in Jason’s chest, and he preens at the thought of Tim being affected by him. 

Tim begins to shake, and Jason draws back slightly, thinking he might have hurt him. Hands grab at his arms and Tim burrows deeper into Jason’s embrace. “I- I thought I was g-going to be sold. T-they told m-me I was going to be sold and I w-would live my life as property to some rich asshole.” Tim gasps into his chest. “These candles,” Tim sniffles, “they block my magic so I couldn’t call anyone for help.”   
Jason feels righteous fury start to simmer within him. His tail appears, swishing back and forth behind him, stirring up a breeze that blows all the offending candles out. How dare they even think of touching his mate. He is going to kill them. Every last person in this castle.

He must have voiced his thoughts because Tim puts a hand to his face and makes Jason focus on him. “I am sorry I said that I wanted to break our bond. I could feel you panic when you realized I was gone, and I knew you would find me. I knew you would come, and it was the only thing that kept me fighting. Thank you.” There are tears in both their eyes and Jason holds Tim close, bumping their foreheads together, reveling in the warmth between them.

“How cute.” Ice washes through Jason’s veins and he is pushing Tim behind him, facing the man now standing in the doorway. He gasps in pain as his head feels like it is being split open. He falls to his knees, clutching his hair and biting his lip to keep from whimpering. 

It’s all coming back. His death. His resurrection. And in the middle of it all, the Demon. “You.” Jason seethes, pain already receding. “I am going to kill you for what you did. Then I am going to dunk you in your magic pool so I can kill you again. And again.” He is rapidly gaining his strength back from his dizzy spell, and he notices a tiny eye twitch on Ra’s face.

The Demon laughs as Jason struggles to stand, still a little unsteady on his feet. “You are just as I remember, Todd.” He speaks slowly, as if speaking to a child who needs time to register the words. Jason bares his rapidly growing teeth at him. “So, it is you who laid claim to my precious mage. Do you know how much trouble it is going to be to break the bond without killing him? No, I would imagine not.” 

The man walks around the pair, and they move to keep him in their sights. “Let me tell you how I plan to break your precious little mate.” He sneers the last word and Jason loses half of his vision to a blinding green. He is quick to get a hold of himself, knowing it wouldn’t do anyone any good if he went feral here. 

Ra’s didn’t miss the slight lapse in control, and his smile grows wider. “Look who managed to finally calm down. Is that an artifact I see over your neck? I cannot begin to fathom the power stored in such an item. I simply cannot wait to find out when I pry it off your headless corpse.” Jason cares little for threats to his own life and unfortunately the Demon realizes this, and switches his taunts to Tim. 

“After, of course, I rape your precious little mate within an inch of his life. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the show-” There is a choked gurgle, cutting off the rest of his vulgar statement. A knife, like the one Tim shattered on Jason’s leg, is protruding from the man’s neck, and Jason watches in horror as the man merely frowns around the blood welling up from his mouth and reaches up to pull the knife out with a disturbing squelch. His wound closes quickly and he wipes the majority of the blood off his face. 

Tim still has his hand outstretched from the throw, and is gaping in shock. Ra’s merely cracks his neck and quips, “Now that was just rude.” The knife clatters to the ground, and Jason sees his chance. He lunges to swipe the knife off the floor and brings it up to the Demon’s eye, jamming it as far in as it will go. This forces a scream out of Ra’s, and Jason shoves him violently, turning and grabbing Tim to make his impromptu getaway as the Demon falls to the ground, scratching at his bloody eye socket.

“Holy-” Tim huffs, clutching to Jason for all he is worth as the man dashes through the halls at inhuman speed. There are few obstacles that are swift enough for Jason to have to dodge, and soon he spots a window, and runs at it full speed. 

“Jason this is a fifty story castle, you can’t just jump out!” Tim protests, and begins to struggle in his hold. There is not much the young man could do, however, because the next moment there is a shower of glass and the pair are free falling down the side of the castle. 

Tim squeezes his eyes shut, and sends a silent prayer to the gods, but time stretches on, and Tim is still falling. He should have hit the ground by now, right? He peeks through one eye to see a brilliant crimson and opens his eyes fully to stare at the giant wings protruding from Jason’s back. The last time Tim saw them was at the warehouse where Jason was a feral mess. 

Risking a glance at Jason’s face, Tim is surprised to find him human looking. Well, as human as a man with wings and horns can look. He has a look of concentration on his face and Tim laughs deliriously, his heart light as a feather. 

Jason can feel Tim’s elation at flying and he outwardly preens at the indirect praise. He thinks he did a pretty good job wooing him, and is excited to hold him in his arms for as long as the prince will let him. Jason remembers the cave he took to find Tim, but it takes some wandering and, at one point, an impromptu interrogation of a poor guard to find a way out. 

Their struggle isn’t over though, which becomes crystal clear to them as they step out of the tunnel system only to be found surrounded by hundreds of warriors. Jason and Tim held hands throughout the walk in the tunnels, and Jason reluctantly lets go to assume a fighting stance. To his side, Tim readies a weak shock spell, but the remaining effects of the candles renders his magic quite limited and feeble. 

Oddly enough, the warriors don’t move. Jason notices that they don’t even have their weapons drawn. Jason blinks and spares a glance at Tim, who looks equally as confused. 

“Maybe if we don’t move, they can’t see us.” Jason whispers to Tim, who giggles at the quip, momentarily forgetting their situation. Jason smiles at the sound, wanting to record it so he can listen to it every moment of every day. Tim blushes and looks down, as if he sensed Jason’s thoughts and is embarrassed. Oh yeah, he probably can. 

There is a pointed cough from one of the warriors standing around them and Jason refocuses his attention on them. “What do you want? One on one, or all at once?” Jason challenges, flexing his muscles to show off the scales just under his skin. 

“Neither, I am afraid.” A smooth voice answers him, and the crowd of warriors parts to let none other than Talia Al Ghul through. Jason remembers Talia well. She was the reason he was alive again. She talked Ra’s into letting her use the pit for him, and trained him after he got out. 

She stops a reasonable distance between the pair, and the warriors reform the tight circle around them. Jason has no room in the mouth of the tunnel to spread his wings, so flying away is not an option. He could always try and take Talia out, but he doubts his ability to beat her in a fight without his full abilities. 

“I can hear you scheming from here, Jason. Worry not, I am here as a friend.” She says, producing a familiar bundle of clothing from her satchel. “I recovered the mages clothes, and mended the tears and stains from the fabric. I recognized it as enchanted, so I figured you would want it back.” 

Tim walks forward to receive his clothes and Jason bristles at the movement, still not convinced that Talia is not going to hurt him. His fears are for naught, as she simply hands Tim his clothes folded up with the shoes on the top. 

“Do tell my son I send my regards.” Task done, Talia turns and walks back into the crowd of warriors, giving a parting wave as they all begin to march off to wherever it is that Talia lives. 

As soon as the last man is out of sight, Jason leads Tim to a rock and shields him with his wings, letting him get dressed in private. Jason is tempted to peek, but he stops himself, reminding him that he is wooing Tim, not perving on him. Jason can’t say that he hasn’t thought about getting the smaller man naked…

“Keep your thoughts pure, bird boy.” Tim emerges from the cage of feathers Jason constructed and Jason’s breath catches in his throat. Tim is absolutely gorgeous. His suit is tight fitting, showing off his lean muscles, and the color matches his eyes, making Jason have a hard time choosing where to stare. 

He can feel Tim blushing and slightly preening over the doubt. He will work on erasing the doubt completely from Tim’s mind, his mate is beautiful and he should know it. 

“You are an incredible person, Timothy.” Jason starts, trying to speak from the heart, which is not easy for him. He rises from his seat atop the rock and stalks toward him. “You are strong, intelligent and the most beautiful person I have ever met. You may argue about how well I truly know you, having been asleep for most of our acquaintance, but I felt the emotions you felt whenever you were conscious.” Tim had opened his mouth to argue and Jason shot him down before he could get the words out.

“You were worried for me, for your family, and you were stubbornly dedicated to your work.” Jason plows on, reaching out for Tim and brushing a hand over his cheek. “I know we kinda just met, and I know I am not even close to being good enough for you, but please allow me the honor of courting you.” Oops. Jason had not meant to get so carried away. He wanted to at least wait until he got Tim back to Gotham before asking such a thing. He holds his breath and waits for an answer, more nervous than he has ever been in his lives. 

Tim is thoughtful, and Jason cannot read his feelings at all. Sneaky bastard found out how to shield his emotions from the bond. Jason smiles fondly at Tim’s amazing ability to figure out something so complex and undocumented. 

Tim reaches up to take Jason’s hand, which was still resting on his face, into his own. “I-”

The sound of footsteps fast approaching causes Jason to slap his hand over Tim’s mouth, who makes an indigent noise. “Shh. Someone is coming. We have to go.”

Tim makes a confused noise from behind Jason’s hand and licks his palm. Jason stumbles a bit at the warm heat, his wings stuttering from where they were ready for liftoff. “You can lick me all you want later.” Jason regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. 

Great, all that work he put into wooing him is going to be undone because he can’t keep his mouth shut.

Taking to the sky, Jason heads in the direction of the tree he had nested in before rescuing Tim. He takes his hand off of Tim’s mouth to hold him more securely and worries for the entire flight how much Tim is going to hate him for asking such an important question and then basically telling him to shut up when he was about to answer. 

Jason makes it to the tree a bit before sundown, and manages to land with far more grace than the last time he was here. He gently sets Tim on his feet in the nest and leaves to find some moss to line the floor with. 

When he gathers all the soft and spongy moss he can carry, which is actually quite a lot, he returns to find Tim in the same spot he left him. Which is not surprising given that Jason used his full speed to gather the supplies. 

Once the moss is laid out, Jason has no more excuses and bows his head. “I’m sorry for cutting you off, I heard people from the caves, and-” 

Tim cuts him off with a finger to his lips. Jason looks up in surprise, having not noticed his approach. “You are forgiven, I would rather have been cut off then cut in half by an enemy.” There is a twinkle in his eyes and Jason melts a little bit. He is so fucked. 

Removing the finger from his lips, Tim takes a step back, and Jason gathers all his willpower to remain where he is and not to follow him. “I have been given time to consider your offer, and I have my answer.” Tim states, all business. 

Jason feels like he is drawing this out to kill him. He can’t stop the whimper that claws its way out of his throat at the prospect of finally getting to court Tim. Please, please let the gods be kind, he knows he doesn’t deserve Tim, but he doesn’t know what he would do if Tim rejects him.

Tim, not as oblivious to the turmoil inside Jason’s head as Jason would have liked, nods once. “I accept your offer to court me. You may begin immediately.” He smiles, and Jason knows he is crying, can feel the tears start to fall and practically tackles Tim to the ground, hugging the man as tight as he dares. 

Tim pets his hair, and Jason calms down almost immediately. After some trial and error, they find a suitable cuddling position and watch the sun as it makes its descent into the earth. Well, Tim does, Jason has eyes only for Tim and seeing the setting sunlight illuminate his face is far more beautiful than any silly sunset. 

Tim turns to look at him and they find themselves nose to nose. Jason freezes, he has no experience with romantic stuff, and he wants to kiss Tim, but he doesn’t know if it is too soon, or if he would even be any good at it- 

The choice is taken from him as Tim closes the distance and presses their lips together. Jason sighs in pleasure, his eyes falling closed as he gives in to the kiss, letting Tim lead. Either kissing is amazing, or Tim is a really good kisser, because when Tim uses his lips to part Jason’s so their tongues can meet? That is some magic right there. Jason lets out an overwhelmed whimper as Tim rolls him onto his back and straddles his waist, holding onto his hair as he devours his dragon’s mouth. 

Jason grips Tim’s arms for dear life as he loses himself in Tim, and they kiss until they fall asleep, Jason’s wings cocooning them from the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also was thinking of adding a chapter of some... alone time with Tim and his new dragon hubby. Will probs be a standalone that follows the story.
> 
> This wasn't beta read so if you spot any errors or inconsistencies, feel free to point them out!

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued... 
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think! I accept any feedback, good and bad!


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